


Fireworks

by BoughtMyWayIntoPopCulture



Category: City of Love: Paris (Visual Novel)
Genre: Disney World & Disneyland, Disneyland Paris, F/M, Honestly it was just meant to be a kiss at an amusement park, Post Epilogue with Vincent, and it ran away from me, as per usual, canon character death mentions, light and fluffy with some mentions of heavy stuff too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 23:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18214979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoughtMyWayIntoPopCulture/pseuds/BoughtMyWayIntoPopCulture
Summary: The Main Character planned a day out to celebrate Vincent's release from prison, following the events of the end of Season 2.  He's far from thrilled with the choice of location until he's presented with a reward he can never resist: a kiss from his favorite daring American journalist.





	Fireworks

“I can think of a thousand different ways to celebrate being out of jail.  And I will admit, this wasn’t one of them,” Vincent said when the journalist pulled off the blindfold.

Disneyland Paris.  Of all places they could have gone, he didn’t anticipate this one. He was, after all, a grown man without a family. Why on earth would he  _ want  _ to come here?  

Not that he would admit to having come here a handful of times between its opening and Paul’s accident.  He was a teenager when it first opened, it was excusable. Now it was simply strange, even more strange than Vincent wanted to embrace.

The American, on the other hand, was beaming.  At him, at the castle, at the entire day ahead of them.

She needed this too, he reminded himself. Alia was finally in jail for her actions and he’d been let out on early release due to his actions to save Paris. He’d turned himself back over after the strange party where he begrudgingly admitted that he cared for the American. More than cared. Loved.

But he’d said it wrong, he knew.  He hated the way the emotions took hold of him, made him lose control over his thoughts.  One second he was scheming and the next he was admiring how bright her eyes were or how her voice sometimes had a musical lilt when she spoke French. Which wasn’t often and made the times she did all the more special.

He didn’t need the sun to be out to feel the warmth of the spring day. Her hand did just fine.

Or it did until two little terrors ran towards them, a blur of bright colors and loud sounds. Vincent grunted and let go of his companion when one of the children slammed into him, the other running just under their clasped hands, dodging them entirely.  His side felt cold and wet; when the child backed away, he found an appalling mess of ice cream smeared into his suit jacket.

His new one. This suit was actually a dark blue rather than his usual black. Specially purchased for this occasion.  He’d wanted something new and she hadn’t even had time to notice. Except now she did in the most unfortunate of circumstances.

He glowered at the child and stared down at him until he backed away further, apologizing sheepishly as the mother caught up with them.  Before the situation could go further, the journalist stepped in, reacting far more kindly than he would have. He glared as the two children and their mother walked away, burning holes into their backs.

“Where is Eugene?  He said he wouldn’t be far behind,” Vincent hissed, removing the jacket carefully and holding it away from him with barely disguised disgust.

“Probably got stuck on a-oh, there he is!” She pointed to the valet, who was on his phone as he walked over.  

The servant took the jacket without a word other than admitting there was no spare jacket in the car.

“At least, not one that would match, sir.”

Vincent cursed his decision to only have  _ one  _ suit made. Of course. He could create a thousand different plans on how to take over Paris, how to dominate a market, push competitors out, but have a second jacket for a date?  

_ Was _ this a date?

She’d clearly put thought into this, even if the location seemed...beneath him.  The last thing she needed was a repeat of his sour mood from their last meeting.

“I’ll be fine.  It’s hot, anyway,” he acquiesced with a sigh.  “We should be alright for the rest of the day provided we avoid children.  Please see that it’s cleaned as soon as possible.”

Eugene nodded, hesitated for a second, and then turned around and went in the direction he came.  

It meant the valet would spend most of his day dealing with dry cleaning and demanding it be done before he came to pick them up. Which also meant they were  _ alone _ . Or as alone as they could be in a park of thousands of people.

Vincent rolled up his sleeves, taking care not to wrinkle the shirt unnecessarily. He smirked when he caught the American glancing at him, her eyes darting from the sleeves to his waist and then away, looking back every so often.

“Yes,  _ ma cherie _ ?”

“It  _ is  _ blue.  I wasn’t sure if it was the sunlight or that you were, in fact, wearing something other than black and green.”

Her tone was teasing and her eyes lingered on the waistcoat longer than usual.

“I  _ do _ own other colors, believe it or not,” he said, although he didn’t dare admit it wasn’t until she’d asked him on an outing that he went and ordered the suit.  He held out his arm instead of his hand this time. “Now, what shall we see?”

No one had been this close to him willingly in a long time. He could feel the warmth of her touch on his arm, her fingers occasionally grazing bare skin where his sleeve now stopped, although she caught herself multiple times and drew back.  They brushed against each other occasionally but the hold meant they wouldn’t be as easily separated as before.

“Do you want to go on Hyperspace Mountain?” She asked, pointing to the Star Wars themed attraction as they wove their way through Discoveryland.

Oh, god, surely she didn’t didn’t expect him to…?

“I’m far too proper for rides, I’m afraid,” he said after a moment. “You get off looking unkempt and wide eyed as if you’d stood in front of a large industrial fan for hours.”

“That’s the fun of it,” she said, but didn’t press further.

He waited on the short line with her (she’d paid for the special passes, he’d noted, which meant less time with snot-nosed little ones) nonetheless and took her bag when it came time for her to clamor in next to a stranger.  The purse was surprisingly heavy for something so small and flat. It was lavender inside, he’d noticed, a color that suited her well. 

He declined every ride she suggested but took her things without question or complaint.  Although he did humor her and do Les Mystères Du Nautilus, as it wasn’t technically a ride.  His disinterest in rides had its perks; she was adamant about getting a headband with ears on it and while she enjoyed having the wind in her hair, he went and bought a rose gold pair he thought suited her.

Vincent watched her come back with a smile every time, her eyes sparkling, her laughter infectious.  She’d eyed the bag he carried curiously but didn’t ask. She knew better.

She was somewhat surprised that he came with her to Le Château De La Belle Au Bois Dormant, a recreation of Sleeping Beauty’s castle.  But it wasn’t a ride and it was considered to be the best Disney Castle out of all of the parks. It was a great use of the space, he admitted, and the interpretation was an interesting mix of art styles.  

When they stepped out and took a break to check the map, his face fell into an expression that crossed into boredom.  This wasn’t how he wanted today to go. They’d hardly had any time actually  _ together _ and he was frustrated that such parks didn’t have...well, anything else for adults to do.  That he let her surprise him was, in itself, remarkable, considering how much he liked controlling the situation.

If he’d planned it, everything would have been perfect.  A light lunch, a walk around the city or in air conditioning, maybe an afternoon performance.  Plenty of time to  _ talk _ .

They needed that.  Their last encounter had been awkward (his doing) and all of this set his nerves on edge.  Especially the children and the screaming and the crying.

He should just be happy to be with her.  He  _ was  _ happy to be with her.  

To be with her was enough.  And yet he was refusing to play along because it was something he didn’t like when it was clear she very much did.  He wasn’t attuned to how most people dated but he knew  _ that  _ wasn’t right.  Even worse, he didn’t know what to do about it.

The American’s voice rang in his ears and disrupted his thoughts.

“Come on, this supposed to be the Happiest Place on Earth and you could not look more miserable if you tried,” she said, her smile faltering for a moment.

She always saw right through him.  There was little point in pretending.  She shifted her weight and turned so she faced him, shoulder and hip against the iron fencing.  “I shouldn’t keep expecting you to join me, I know this was a bit of a...strange choice. But I wanted both of us to enjoy it.”

“I  _ am  _ enjoying it.”

“No, you’re not, Vincent.”

She gave him a pointed look and he mentally cursed her for reading him so well.  Not that he’d been hiding it, really.

“I don’t...how do I…” he trailed off in mumbled French.  

She was intent on listening, her posture relaxed and a need to understand etched across her features.  He never thought he would see the look she gave so many of her friends directed at him. Especially when he’d professed his affections as he had months earlier, like they created a bad taste in his mouth. 

Much like the fear currently working its way from his stomach.

“I do not like roller coasters.  I never really did. I’m fine with stationary heights but plummeting towards the ground was never something I enjoyed.  I don’t like appearing messy or untidy but that’s…”

_ A front _ .

She knew about the accident.  A byproduct of her research into him years ago.  She knew enough; when he was ready, he’d tell her the rest. 

He reached for his tie, his eyes falling to the strap of her bag on her shoulder before looking back up at her.  Her eyes were still soft but he could see the gears working in her head. She kept quiet, however, for which he was thankful.  He hated when people interrupted his thinking or put words in his mouth.

He let out a sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair.  He reigned in the desire to simply dump out everything. Emotions weren’t things he  _ could  _ control, not really, but they were in public and he would try to do better than before.  “I prefer to be in control. Over myself, not…”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish that thought.  There were too many children around and the journalist had a habit of being less than tactful when her mind went into the gutter.  She raised a hand in understanding and Vincent couldn’t help but think the slight flush in her cheeks to be quite…cute.

She was quiet for a moment before a familiar smirk crossed her face. 

“What if I promised to kiss you again?  If you went on one ride with me?” She held up a finger to emphasis her point about a singular ride.

“I would call you a cheeky little minx and ask for payment upfront.”

“I pick when I kiss you, though,” her finger came to rest on the tip of his nose, which he begrudgingly allowed as her face became sincere again.  “Everything else is your choice. I won’t suggest anything or ask, okay?”

He took her hand in his and pressed her fingertip to his lips in lieu of a proper kiss.  Their first bet was almost a joke, making a game out of catching a killer. But that night he’d made his boundaries clear on not taking advantage of her and she was, in turn, giving him the same respect.  His heart almost skipped a beat at the realization. She only wanted him to try on his terms. 

He could do that.

He mulled over the map and even consulted a few reviews before choosing Big Thunder Mountain.  They did, after all, have the special passes and he wanted something they didn’t have to wait in line for.  Plus there were no corkscrews or upside-down twists. It was a standard wooden roller coaster. Simple. He could do simple.

The car wasn’t exactly comfortable for someone of his height but the thought was fleeting when he glanced over and found the American looking around.  She was, no doubt, comparing it to the American counterpart, as she had with small things throughout the day. Vincent was glad that, even if today wasn’t going as planned for either of them, that he was with her for that.  She had chosen a location that was partially sentimental and nostalgic for her in a different way.

When they finally started moving, the afternoon sunlight blinded him before the tracks led into a dark tunnel, his stomach dropping as the sudden descent began.  The darkness eventually gave way to a dimly lit cavern with stalactites and pools of water as the tracks led up again at a steep incline. The drop wasn’t as jarring as he expected, although he hated the way his heart pounded in his chest at the angles of the turns (why couldn’t they just be turns, why did they have to make him feel like he was going to fall out?).  The woman next to him was cheering along with a few other riders and she encouraged him to let go of his white-knuckled hold on the bar keeping him in place.

He relented once but didn’t join in her enthusiastic cheers as they soared along the tracks.  There were dips and turns and drops as they approached the obvious final descent inside the mountain, where smoke machines and bright lights disorientated everyone.  Back outside and then back into darkness peppered with occasional blue lights before the summer sun hit his skin again, this time for good.

It was quick and he was more than happy to be standing once again after they reached the platform.  Being tall had its downsides. He hoped his knees wouldn’t be bruised.

Vincent didn’t join her on every ride she picked but he found himself next to her more often than not.  He let himself enjoy the moments rather than idly sit by with her purse in his hands and watched her smile grow organically as joy sparked through her.  

She had yet to keep her end of their bargain but she was spontaneous; he would get his reward when he least expected it.

They stayed until closing, stopping only to eat or take breaks from the sun.  She had no desire to leave, it seemed, and it felt wrong to suggest that they do so.  She was having fun, smiling more in the hours they were together than she had in the months since she’d returned.  When they reached the castle again, he suggested they stay for the evening event and watch the fireworks and she grinned so wide he thought her smile would crack.

“But I think you’re missing one important thing,” he teased.  “Close your eyes.”

“You can’t kiss me, that breaks our agreement.”

“I wasn’t going to.  I know how to be patient, much as you might think otherwise.”

He slipped the headband out of its bag and set it on her head before arranging her hair a little.  Yes. That color suited her well. So did the color in her cheeks when she realized what she’d forgotten so quickly in her adventure, and that he remembered something so trivial.  She was biting her lip and trying not to smile again before she opened her eyes. 

She deserved to be happy and she’d chosen him to help her find it.  He had to do his part somehow, even if he wasn’t interested in the rush and excitement of the environment.

The hug she gave him was fierce after a quick use of her phone’s front camera as a mirror.  The were bright and shining and matched her rosy outlook on everything. They matched her perfectly.  Even now, when she was exhausted, physically and emotionally, she still managed to have more energy than Esteban.  

Which was saying a lot, considering the pug wasn’t exactly a puppy anymore.

They found a spot to watch the lightshow.  Projections lit up the castle, where traces of gold gave way to a starry night, and then to an explosion of purple and red.  As flowers and vines grew in the images, he turned to see the American enthralled with the fireworks and lights, her face a myriad of colors.  She jumped a little when the louder fireworks cracked but her smile never faltered. He reached down and took her hand, her other one occupied with taking a video to share later.

A part of him felt as though he didn’t deserve her.  

A small part.  Very small.

That she could find enjoyment out of something so simple and, dare he think, wholesome, made his heart ache a little.  The woman who chased him relentlessly to stop him from putting Paris under a spell, who stopped at nothing to catch her friend’s killer, was made happy by an iconic mouse and bright lights.  He truly had no clue who any of the characters being projected onto the castle were; for someone who worked in media, he was incredibly out of touch with pop culture.

Vincent turned to watch her again, finding her reactions far more satisfying, only to see that she was already looking up at him.  She stood on her toes and brushed her noses against his, which only served to frustrate him more. He could be patient but there was only—

Soft lips met his suddenly as the show reached its finale, the noise of the music and the crowd dropping away as he felt a hand on his chest.  He covered it with his, stealing a few more kisses before she pulled away. Her other hand was holding out her phone and he knew she had evidence not only of their day, but this moment, too. 

The air was heavy with smoke as a hushed quiet took over the remaining guests.  They stayed like that, less than an arm’s length apart, hands pressed together. He reached and fixed her headband, knocked askew in his fervor for more of her lips. 

“I waited all day to do that.  If I kiss you again, I’m never going to stop,” she whispered.  “And I don’t know what to do about that.”

“What makes you think I’d  _ want  _ you to stop?” He flashed her a smirk, to which she replied with an eye-roll and another kiss.

Their ride back into Paris  was filled with conversation between Eugene and the journalist as she recounted their day. She conveniently left out their private agreement and his servant seemed quite shocked to learn that Vincent had actually partaken in the fun. Soon enough, though, he felt a weight against his shoulder and he looked to find her leaning into him, fast asleep.  She’d feel it tomorrow too.

Vincent smiled to himself before turning his attention back to his phone. Although significantly less busy than he used to be, there were still more than enough emails to drive him crazy. He’d deal with it in the morning. For now, he turned his attention to the text notification he had and opened the app. 

One picture, from ten minutes ago, before she’d fallen asleep. It perfectly captured the moment, bright fireworks illuminating the castle in the background as they kissed.  It was, perhaps, a little silly, especially for him, but it made his chest constrict and a warmth run through him.

“Everything okay, sir?” Eugene asked, meeting his boss’ eyes from the rear view mirror.

“Of course.  Thank you, Eugene.”

He turned his attention back to his phone and saved the photo before locking the device.  Today hadn’t gone as he’d anticipated at all, but he couldn’t have asked for a better first day of freedom with her. 


End file.
